Dorian goes when Bull coaxes him, and stays because he promises to be back--and because the warm water is soothing against his aching body, the strain of the last few days having taken a toll. He relaxes back against the edge of the tub as Bull prepares fruit and a cup of water. He knows logically that there will be no magebane in it--this is Bull, after all--but the lack of its taste is still a relief when he raises it to his lips and drinks.

He might as well try to eat as well, he thinks, and tries a slice of melon without incident. Bull is sitting near enough that he doesn't feel the immediate urge to move closer, though he wouldn't mind it. He wants nothing more than to be cradled to his chest, to soak in the comforting circle of Bull's arms. "I could help?" He offers, watch Bull pluck at the knots holding his rope harness in place. Dorian knows how to, after all. It's an offer he makes genuinely, though it may not be the best idea. His hands are still shaking.